


Fen'Ashalan

by ThePirateQueenAngel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: After the Veil Falls, Closure, Dying Inquisitor, Elvhenan, F/M, Family Secrets, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fen'Harel Has Some Explaining To Do, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lavellan's Daughter, Love, Old Inquisitor, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Strained Relationships, Stubborn Elves, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:39:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePirateQueenAngel/pseuds/ThePirateQueenAngel
Summary: Belavahn Lavellan travels home to Skyhold with her mother, Inquisitor Siona Lavellan, 40 years after the events that changed Thedas forever. With her death soon approaching, Siona didn't want to be anywhere but the fortress where she had helped shape the world and met the two great loves of her life.Nobility from all over Thedas are expected soon to visit the ailing Inquisitor to pay their respects & say their goodbyes, but one person who no one ever expected to see again on this side of the world, the King of Elvhenan himself, shows up to Skyhold to say goodbye to the woman that he loved, and learn of a secret he never knew had been kept from him.





	1. The Dawn Has Come and Gone

**Author's Note:**

> This started out short and sweet and as closure for a Lavellan Inquisitor, and turned into another monster entirely.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ex-Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan arrives at Skyhold with her son and daughter, to spend the remainder of her days in the comfort of the past. Her daughter Belavahn, thinks about the state of the world and her place in it.

The move home to Skyhold proved... challenging.  
  
With the winter season fast approaching, the narrow paths were either piled heavily with snow or slick and dense with mud. It was by sheer luck that their relatively small company they were travelling with had made the trip before the storm had set in.  
  
None of that bothered mother, of course.  
  
As they had ridden up over the hill that marked the last stretch of road before reaching the fortress, her first sight of the place lit up her face like the streets of Val Royeaux during Satinalia.  
  
"Do you remember the last time she looked so happy?" The handsome golden-haired man said to her as he quietly shut the door to the guest quarters, Siona was far too old to make the journey up the stairs to her own grand chamber, so she had given it to them and taken the rooms below, once used to house the nobility and ambassadors from every nation of Thedas.  
  
"Not since Papa passed, no." The woman clung to his arm as they walked down the corridor that led to the main hall, getting louder as they got farther away from their sleeping mother.  
  
"Do you think that was why she chose to come back here? To be put to rest where father is? I had thought she might like to be scattered across the Dales like uncle Mahanon."  
  
She glared at her brother in reproach, tears springing to her eyes. Sometimes she wondered how they were siblings, they were like fire and water. Just complete opposites in every way. He was broad and tan with hair like spun gold and chocolate brown eyes, almost the spitting image of his father. While she had inherited the quiet beauty of their mother that could be seen in her long raven hair and porcelain skin, she was willowy and had a brightness to her blue-grey eyes that came from being elven.  
  
"Must you speak of her as if she were already dead, Stanton?" She glared up at her brother, who was at least a head taller than her, sick of him speaking so casually of their mother. It felt like just days had passed since they had lost their father, instead of the almost two years it had truly been. She remembered their last journey here, the small service performed for their father before he was buried in a prominent place in the courtyard. Their mother had been too ill to make the trip, they wouldn't let her risk her life like that. But many templars and those hat had retired from service from across Thedas had appeared to honor the man that saved their order, who was there for them as men and not just as soldiers, many of them would not have survived if Cullen hadn't cared for what happened to them. 

"I'm sorry, Belavahn." He sighed, not looking at her as he spoke. " It just feels like the only reason we return home is to bury parents. I hate that we have to do it again so soon, it isn't fair."

She stared at the side of her brother's face, who was looking ahead at the Throne where their mother used to pass judgement, so many years ago. Sometimes she forgets how much younger than her he is, everyone always mistook her for the youngest, due to her small stature. 

 "At least _you_ knew your father." She mused quietly, "and he didn't almost destroy the world."

He snorted at her as they sat down at a table filled with food, neither of them even noticing the servants who had brought it in. A simple meal for the two of them comprised of breads and cheeses, some questionable 'fresh' fruit and wine.

News had spread fast across Thedas of the Inquisitor's illness, and the duo didn't know how it had even spread so far. Their mother's number of close friends in high places likely didn't help. Before their departure, they had received a number of gifts and letters for her from nobles far and wide. She was beloved by many across the world, having affected change in so many places.

As such, Belavahn had hired someone simply to sort through her post. Her mother's estate in Ferelden was well known, having entertained Monarchs and dignitaries throughout the years even after dissolving the Inquisition, her advice and counsel was often sought after.

Which meant gifts.

Far too many to count much less keep, Ranging from small parcels, flowers and letters of well-wishing or condolences, to the ridiculously extravagant pieces of furniture or art. Most of the more outlandish gifts came from her mother's oldest and dearest friend, their Uncle Dorian, too old himself to make the journey to visit so far outside of the Imperium. 

When word spread that the Inquisitor was returning to Skyhold to spend her final months in the comfort of her fortress, which was officially gifted to her after the Veil fell, gifts started to be sent there instead, much to the appreciation of everyone involved. Along with notices of people who wanted to visit and pay their respects or say goodbye to their friend. Most such requests were denied, as her health came first to Belavahn, and she was always fiercely protective of her mother. She had been through enough, she had given enough of herself to the world- and to others who didn't deserve any part of her.

 Like her father.

She could count on one hand the number of times her mother had ever spoken of him. Other than to say that he was a good man who was only doing what he thought was best, no matter what she would hear from anyone else. He didn't know that he had fathered a daughter, something her mother always made sure Belavahn knew she could change anytime if she wished it, leaving it completely up to her to make that decision for herself. But she had had never felt the urge to track him down, or know anything of him aside from what the whole world knew of the man.

Once when Uncle Dorian visited, they had drank so much wine that he told her that she had the same freckles as her father, along with his ears and his penchant for knowledge. When she had asked her mother if he was telling the truth, she didn't speak to Dorian for a month, the crystal she always kept nearby unused and tossed into a drawer. She had learned then to never ask for any more information about anything regarding him.

Cullen was the only father she ever needed, the man who had loved her for her whole life like she was his own flesh and blood. Been there for her birth, her first words, her first heartbreak. He was the only father that she needed, and now he was gone. Like her mother soon would be, like her brother would be eventually. She alone would remain of her family, a by product she had once thought was the fault of the destruction of the Veil, but was truly the Ancient Elvhen blood that ran through her veins. 

Belavahn had stopped aging at around her twenty-fifth year, and she was now nearing forty. Born only a handful of months after the death of Corypheus, hidden away at Skyhold until her family's move to an estate they had built in Ferelden. That she was different had come as a shock to her mother and Cullen, but there were many signs as she grew. Coming into her magic at a very young age, wild and a force of nature that no one could explain.

When the Veil fell- or came crashing down as was more accurately descriptive of the event- it only solidified what Siona had suspected of her daughter. That she was more her father's child than she had realized, she was immortal as he was. Immortal as most elves born now were, the barrier between them and the Fade no longer corrupting their true nature. Though they kept to their new kingdom that was rapidly growing in size and power as time went on, becoming a force of their own and slowly returning to what they had been, once upon a time.

"Bela." 

She flinched as her brother's voice interrupted her internal conflict, and looked up at him.

"He was your father too, he loved you every bit as much as he loved me- probably more. Do not ever forget that." He clasped his large hands on either side of her shoulders, as if willing her to stop beating herself up. He was good at that, her brother. She didn't know what she would ever do without him, without the peace he brought to her mind when she was on the verge of tears or collapsing into herself.

"I know, Stanton." She sighed, pausing to take a sip of the deep red wine placed in front of them. "How is it that life can feel like it is passing me by so quickly? Before I know it you will be gone too- and I will be alone in the world."

 He looked as if he was about to try to and argue with her, but instead just sighed, and looked out across the empty hall.

He knew it wouldn't do him any good, she was just as stubborn as their mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belavahn- one with many questions. Taken from Project Elvhen, I figured it worked well for the Dread Wolf's child :^)
> 
> This really was supposed to be a one shot about an Inquisitor getting closure, but it decided it wanted to be about angst and family drama instead!


	2. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor shows up to Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've not forgotten about this work, or any of my others (assuming any of you reading this have read them) I've just been so busy and also am currently suffering from a block that just will not lift.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3

The thing Bela always missed the most about Skyhold was the garden. 

The many flowers and herbs carefully cultivated over the years since the Inquisition had grown wild with time, verdant vines and branches winding their way high up the stone walls around them as though they were part of the keep itself. The air smelled of elfroot and dawn lotus in the cool morning breeze, and she paused from her task to breathe deeply, happily. She loved it here, as close to nature as one could get in a frozen mountain stronghold.

She had spent the better part of the morning knee-deep in the dirt, pulling weeds and clipping wild branches, so much so she didn't notice how much time had passed her by until a servant had come up behind her.

"Fenehdis, Silvia! You scared me half to death." She breathed, hand grasped at her chest as she recovered from almost falling face first into a plot of dirt. The girl was looking down at her wide-eyed, almost anxious. Like she didn't know how best to speak to her.

"Sylvia, what is it? Is something wrong with mamae?" Belavahn's heart started to speed up in her chest as she started to panic, unsure what else could have the girl looking so scared.

"Goodness no, my lady! Oh Maker, I'm such an idiot. Of course you would-" She sighed, before starting over. "There is a visitor, a man, who just arrived. He says he is here to see your mother, but he showed up alone, and he is not one of the few you've extended invitations to. No one knows how to handle it, so I came to ask what we should do."

An unexpected, uninvited visitor?

Who would dare show up to the fortress of the dying Inquisitor? Of the dozens of requests she had received for visits to Skyhold, Belavahn had only accepted a handful. Those who knew and loved her mother for herself, not for what they would gain from her favor.  

She cleaned herself off as best she could, before walking back toward the main hall.

* * *

 

She stopped just inside the modest doorway, hidden behind a pillar of the great hall, and looked over at the the man who dared to show up in this place unannounced. He had his back to her, so she couldn't see his face, but she could see that he was an elf. He was dressed almost regally, yet simply.

Dark fur draped across his shoulders as intricately braided auburn hair trailed down his back. She remained as silent as she could as she watched him stare up at her mother's throne, seemingly lost in thought with his hands clasped behind him. 

It wasn't until he spoke, that the spell of silence broke over the keep, rousing her from her thoughts. 

"Does my presence here trouble you, da'len?" His voice was melodic as it echoed slightly across the hall, accent unfamiliar to her. 

She noticed that he had yet to turn around and face her, did he sense her? She thought she had been silent in her staring. He must have felt her anger, she never was very good at controlling her emotions or the aura that came with how powerful she could be. Taking a moment to straighten herself, she took a deep breath and walked toward the man.

She scoffed as she approached, an eyebrow raised at the boldness of the visitor. "I am no da'len. Why should your presence trouble me?" She narrowed her eyes, "I do not even know who you are, nor do I care. But I would enjoy knowing why you have come here."

"Ir abelas, I should not make assumptions." He finally turned to her, expression unreadable. "I have come to see the Inquisitor, one last time, I have heard that she is unwell."

Bealavahn's face remained emotionless save for her raised eyebrow. "Tel'abelas. You were not invited here."

"I didn't know I needed to be."

"Do you often make journeys to fortresses that do not belong to you to seek the audience of dying women? Especially those such as the Inquisitor? Do you think of yourself so highly that you go where you please without notice?"

The man looked both amused and pained at the words that had come out of her mouth, if that were possible. She searched his face as he stood there staring back at her. She couldn't tell if he was speechless or shocked that someone would so callously throw the woman's death in his face. Maybe he wasn't used to being spoken too in such a way, she didn't know, and didn't care.

"Siona is... an old friend. I only wished to see her before she is gone from this world." 

The way he spoke her name with such sincerity, almost reverence, gave Belavahn pause for the first time since walking into the hall. So few people spoke of her mother so informally, usually referring to her as Inquisitor Lavellan, or various titles she had received through her life. It made Ellana wonder who the man was, he certainly had the look of nobility of some kind, that confidence that only the entitled were capable of.

She had only met a few of the new Elvhen nobles that had come to power in the new Elvhen lands across Thedas, many of them looking to her mother for advice, guidance from the one who made their rise possible. But she could not recall seeing this mans face before. 

Under the gentle fall of auburn waves that escaped his braid, he was all pale skin and pronounced cheekbones. A dusting of freckles across his nose underneath large, wise eyes that were a color far too close to her own.

Eyes that she knew she didn't get from her mother.

She trembled slightly as the puzzle pieces fell into place, but she would be damned to the Void before she would let him see it.  

He spoke first, clearly to break the silence that had once again fallen over them. "You are quite protective of Siona, how long have you worked for her?"

"I do not _work_ for her, she is my mother." Belavahn bristled at the condescension in his tone, "of course I am protective of her, who are you to continue speaking so informally of her?"

He was getting on her last nerve, really how dare he speak to her so. 

"Your mother? But you're Elvhen." He looked bemused, as if unable to understand -or believe- what she was saying.

Did he not believe she could be her daughter?

Belavahn knew their resemblance was not so much that you would know their relation at a glance, but she did not think it was truly so unbelievable. She had not come across a reaction like his in her life, at least.

"Do the ears give it away?" She found herself unable to hide the sarcasm in her voice, a terrible habit she fell back on quite often when people annoyed her. 

He scoffed, presumably at her tone. His brows still furrowed in confusion, as if she were some great puzzle to figure out. "No, but Cullen is a human, it is not possible for you to be his-"

"-Cullen _was_ human, yes. He raised me as if I were his own, like the great man that he was. He was not the man who sired me by my mother, but he was my father in every other sense of the word."

"Who?" He spoke the single word plainly, quietly, devoid of emotion.

"Who..?" She drawled out, hoping the man would continue with his question or leave the castle. She did not know which one she preferred.

"Who is your father?"

Her face darkened, incensed that he presumed he could ask such a question.

She had only been asked that a handful of times in her life, most of her family was made up of her mother's inner circle and their kin. A family that had grown considerable over the years, all of the marriages and children born to her mother's greatest friends. Family not by blood but by choice, bonds forged in war time and that had survived the turbulent years that came after.

Belavahn loved them fiercely, just like her mother had. But all who were close to her either knew of his identity, or knew better than to ask her or her mother. It was the one topic in the world Siona herself would never discuss freely, the pain had dulled over time, cooled into a cold indifference of the subject, but none still would risk it.

Better that the knowledge fade into nothing than cause Siona any more pain, she had been through enough.

"Why is that any of your business, Ser? I do not even know you!" Her voice raised with her anger, her mana swirling around her in a chilling aura, tendrils waving wildly through the air around her body. Curling into herself as if she were preparing herself to fight.

Maybe she was.

The man stared at her, silently. Seemingly unaffected by her changing mood or the temperature drop in the room. She could feel him still attempting to figure her out, it was baffling.

Why did he care so much? Why did she care that _he_ cared?

"Belavahn."

She whipped around at the sound of the quiet, familiar voice that came from behind her. Her features softening, and eyebrows raising in surprise at the woman standing there with her hand pressed for balance against the wall.

"Mother, what are you doing up? Are you alright? You shouldn't be moving around!"

She walked over to her mother's side, placing a hand gently on her arm as if to help her stand. It pained her to see how small Siona had become, how frail she looked. Her mother was a force of nature, brilliant and funny and kind. The closer she drew to the end, Belavahn could see all of those pieces of her fade away as the sickness took her, leaving behind a shadow of the woman who she loved so deeply.

Siona waved off her daughter with a smile as she stood up straight, "I am fine, da'len. Do not fuss over me such, I am still here." She placed a hand lovingly against her daughter's face, soothing the worry.

Belavahn nodded, clearing her throat and blinking away tears she refused to shed. "I am sorry, mamae. There is a visitor-" she turned to glare at the man who had once again turned his back on her and back to the throne ahead. "-and he was not announced and is quite insufferable, I did not mean to wake you."

Siona chuckled at her daughter, but there was no true humor in it. "I know, child. I felt him, as I felt your power. Do not look at me so, I am not dead yet." She turned to walk slowly toward the visitor, waving off her daughter's protests.

She sighed deeply, drawing strength from the breath as she came to a stop just steps away from the man. 

"Solas." 

He turned once again toward the women, a sadness and a warmth to his eyes that was not present before. He looked at Belavahn again, as if he had figured out a great mystery. But before long his gaze shifted to Siona instead, slowly, as if it pained him to see what she had become. He blinked several times, before his face shifted back into a calm mask, almost angry.

"Hello, Vhenan."

 

 


	3. Answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I am shocked at the number of kudos I've gotten on this silly thing in just two chapters!
> 
> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, but they should be more frequent from here <3

"Hello, Vhenan."

Belavahn turned to her mother, confused and waiting for her reaction.

What she saw surprised her, rarely did she see her mother look as cold and indifferent as she did in that moment. Siona Lavellan was many things, yet cold could never be used to describe her.

Siona snorted, "you lost the right to call me that many years ago."

The corner of his mouth quirked down, but he did not look so pained at the barb. He had been expecting it, then. 

_Solas._

Belavahn stood behind her mother, frozen in sudden realization. What that name meant to her. 

What it meant to the entirety of Thedas.

The Dread Wolf, Fen'Harel.

Her father.

The man who had left her mother pregnant, missing half of an arm, and half of the heart that he took with him when he abandoned her.

She had not been around for the aftermath of their relationship,  _obviously_ , she had been busy being a fetus. But Belavahn had heard of how utterly broken her mother was before Cullen put the pieces of her back together.

That had taken years. Years of patience and unconditional love, of which her father- Cullen, had been filled with, boundlessly for her.  For their family, they had no lack of love in their lives, and her heart still hurt to feel the loss of him in this world.

She could hear her mother and Solas speaking in front of her, but it was muted, distant. Like she was listening to something far away, and trying to focus on the words was making her head hurt.She knew she was in shock, her face expressionless. She couldn't make her brain wrap around that her birth father was here, in Skyhold. The voices became louder, well, her mother's voice became louder. Solas still spoke quietly, unflinching at whatever insults her mother had for him.

Not that she could tell if he was being insulted, wishful thinking she supposed. When she could stop feeling so dazed she knew she would have some for him, in any case.

"Belavahn."

Oh words directed at her, how lovely.

She tried to focus her eyes on her mother, when had she gotten so close? She blinked rapidly, and Siona's face was right in front of her own, her hands on both sides of Belavahn's head. A steady presence, reminding her that she was there, that this all was real and not some twisted dream.

"Mamae?" 

"Yes, da'vhenan. Breathe, it's okay."

Breathe. She could do that. 

She removed herself from her mother's grip, and took a deep steadying breath. Not knowing how long she had been holding it in. She turned back to glance at the man behind her, noticing she stood between them both.

Her parents.

It was almost surreal.

She never really pictured herself meeting him, though she knew that her father didn't know she existed. It was always her choice, but now that had been taken away from her too. Or had it? She was unsure if he had figured out what she had, unable to bring herself to venture a look at his face, or anything past a glance between them both. Belavahn was too afraid to look and see what she would find on the man- her father's face. She was hit by a ridiculous wave of fear, fear that she would be rejected, fear that she would not be believed. Nothing her mother had ever told her of Solas had led her to believe that he would be so cruel, but Belavahn did not know him. 

The stories her mother had told her, however few they may be, were told to a child with more curiosity than sense. A child who as she grew, could not help but wonder at who her real father was. She hadn't known anything other than he was an elf, obviously, and that he left her mother to follow his own path. He hadn't even known of her pregnancy, though her mother swears he would not have left if he had. It was something that Belavahn hated her mother for briefly as a child, for keeping her a secret and not letting her know her father. But after seeing the hurt on Cullen's face after a particularly childish outburst one night, she never repeated it again. 

She knew now that it was just her mother's way of protecting her child, and protecting herself from the fear of a man staying out of duty to a child, rather than love for her.

 "Why would you keep this from me, Siona?"

The women both reacted, turning to stare at the man who until now hadn't spoken in her direction. He spoke softly, cautiously. It was strange to Belavahn as she finally saw his face, how much hurt she saw there. How much of _herself_ she saw mirrored in him. Her freckles, as her uncle Dorian had told her, indeed came from Solas. His ears, though larger, had the same graceful slope to them. But what Belavahn fixated on the most was the mans eyes, unable to believe that she didn't see herself in them immediately upon coming across him in the main hall.

They were the same. 

She hated him.

Before her mother could speak Belavahn walked toward Solas, stopping an arms-length from his face. She was furious. How dare he question her about deception? He would have destroyed the world, and everyone in it if it weren't for the Inquisitor. If her mother had not found another way, a more peaceful way, they would not be here having this conversation. 

"You dare to question my mother about lies? _You?_ " 

"Belavahn, please my dearest. Don't-" Siona tried to interject, but was cut off.

"No mamae, he doesn't get to do this. He took your arm, and your love, and almost killed everyone we care about! Who is he to ask of your lie?"

"Ir'abelas." 

She whipped back around, fury burning out of her at the look upon his face. He looked like he had been slapped, and Belavahn had to remind herself that he hadn't known that her mother was pregnant when he abandoned her. But that didn't excuse everything else on the long list of things he should be sorry for.

"What are you sorry for,   _Fen'Harel?"_

"A great number of things, da'len. Far more than you have been alive for, and a good deal of them involving your mother."

"Good. It is a start."

Belavahn surprised the man when she said this, even more than she surprised herself. She would give anything to not feel so conflicted. She had always subconsciously wanted to meet the man responsible for her birth, even if she would never admit it to her mother, or herself.

What surprised her even more was what she did next.

 "Silvia." She knew the woman would always be nearby, even if you couldn't see her. She was sent by Leliana to watch over her mother, and she did her job well.

The woman came out of a nearby doorway, doing a good job to look like she happened to be walking by at the right time. "Yes, my lady?"

"Have someone prepare the guest wing for Fen'Harel, he will be staying at Skyhold for a few days."

Her mother's eyes snapped to her like a hawk, as did Fen'Harel's. "Oh I apologize, were you leaving so soon?" She smiled sweetly, waiting for him to argue.

"No, a room would be lovely. Ma'serranas." He bowed his head slightly in thanks. 

"Perfect, if you will excuse me, I must get mother to her rooms. I will return, I believe we have much to discuss."

She didn't give him time to react, before leading Siona from the hall. 

"Belavahn, are you alright?" Her mother asked as they walked toward her suite. 

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit shocked, mamae. Did you know he would do this?"

"No, I didn't. I am sorry, dearest. I know you always wanted it to be your choice."

"Things happen how they are meant to, you always used to say that to me. I just have to believe that there's a reason for this."

She watched as her mother settled into her bed, obviously exhausted from even such a simple walk. Her heart hurt at the sight. She wasnt ready to lose her yet.

But she would be strong, she needed to be.

"I'm going to let you rest, mamae. I will be back before the evening meal, we're still expecting a few more arrivals today that I need to be there for."

"Of course, sweetheart. And Belavahn, please. Don't be too hard on Solas, I won't be here forever. Don't shut him out in anger."

She paused a moment, before smiling at her mother. "I will see you soon, mamae."

* * *

 

 

She paced around her room, the room her mother had occupied during the Inquisition.

Far too large to be comfortable, she didn't know how she was supposed to sleep here. Most of Siona's belongings had been moved to their Ferelden estate when her parents left Skyhold, but there was still a large bed in the center, and the heavy wooden desk her mother had used. She had said that it was too heavy to move, and that it was here when they had rediscovered the castle, and it should remain after the Inquisition was gone.

Belavahn ran her fingers across the empty desk, marveling that her mother had probably made so many decisions here when she wasn't much older than Bela was now. She wished she could have seen her, young and commanding, leading the moevent that changed the world.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she called for them to enter.

When Solas appeared at the top of the stairs, he stopped as his eyes searched the room before them. There was pain there, a look she was familiar with, but at the same time was so foreign to her.

He looked at her as he broke from his own thoughts, "I suppose you have questions."

She scoffed, "and I hope you have answers."


	4. The Apple & The Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hi there!  
>  It definitely hasn't been 7 months since I updated this or anything else, nope.  
> Keep scrolling, enjoysorryiloveyou.

Belavahn watched intently as Solas made his way closer to her.

She was finding it hard not to be angry. She wanted to scream at him, to refuse forgiveness that he hadn't even asked for.

But instead she kept her face impassive and waited until he was seated in the chair in front of the desk. She watched as his eyes wandered around the room, he looked thoughtful. She wondered how many times he had sat in that same seat, sharing laughter and sweet moments with her mother so many years ago. 

As time passed his eyes settled on her face, the silence in the room growing hard to bear but Belavahn would not be the one to speak first. The pair stared at each other, and she could feel her anger shifting along with the awkwardness of the moment. She couldn't tell if felt it too, or was too lost in his own thoughts to notice.

"Why?" She sighed, not willing to wait any longer to get out the one question on her mind. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise, then quickly furrowed when he thought about her question. "There are too many answers to that question, da'len. Regarding many different choices. Did you want to sart with something specific?"

She turned her head to look out the large double doors that led to the balcony, thinking on her answer. She was overwhelmed by all of it. His presence here, all of the questions she had thought of over the years when she played out this scenario in her mind, but now that she had a chance to ask they were all but forgotten. 

"Why did you leave her?" She asked quietly, still not looking at him. "How could you leave her, knowing what you were trying to do? Why not take her with you instead of leaving her to fight and deal with the aftermath of what you were trying to accomplish? Did you truly care for her so little that you left her to die while you left to destroy the world?"

She looked over at him as she finished speaking, surprised at herself that she had asked the questions without anger. She knew the answers her mother had given to her when she had asked similar things, but she wanted to know his. 

"I have lived a great many lifetimes longer than you, have done more things that I regret than I can recall. But for the rest of my days I will feel no deeper regret than I felt leaving your mother." He spoke softly and sadly, meeting her eyes as he answered her. "I left on my own because to have her by my side while I tore down the Veil would have tarnished her view of me, I could not have her with me while I made the choices I felt necessary. I did not leave her to die. I was so certain that death was my path, that no matter if i succeeded or failed, only death would follow."

"And after the Veil fell?"

"At that point so many years had passed, so many things in this world had changed. With the return of our nature and the creation of a new Elvhenan, I was needed by our people. I had sent scouts to every corner of Thedas, and had received reports of your mother's marriage to Cullen, along with a child. I knew that she had found happiness, and that he would keep her safe in ways I never could. No matter how much it pained me, more than anyone in the world she deserved to be happy. So I left her alone. If I had known that you were the child..." 

Belavahn blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes, and cleared her throat as Solas drifted off from his answer.

"If you had known that the child was yours, would it have made a difference?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." Belavahn thought about that, how her life would have been different if she had known her father. "From the moment she told me the truth about you, who you were, she made it my choice. It would have been my choice to send word, to find you, to meet you. I had thought so many time over so many years what it would be like to know you, but if I'm honest with myself I never worked up the courage."

"I could not blame you for such a thing, I know what a great part of the world says of me and the things I've done. It can't have made your decision any easier to grow up knowing that the man who fathered you almost destroyed the world."

"I don't forgive you for that." Belavahn started, "My mother never spoke ill of you, not once in my life. If I were you I would wonder that, so I thought you should know."

 Solas smiled at her softly, "Your mother was always far better to me than I've deserved, but it is nice to hear aloud."

"Even so Fen'Harel, I wouldn't know where to even begin forgiving you for the things you have done. I had a father, a great father, though I bear no blood of his that is what he will always be to me and I could never replace him."

He looked at her solemnly, and nodded his head. " I understand. Cullen was a great man, and I would never wish to take his place. I wished only to see your mother once more before she is no longer, she is-"

A knock to the door brought an end to the conversation and uneasy peace of the room.

Belavahn cleared her throat before answering, "enter."

The door opened and soft footsteps made their way up the stairs, and Silvia appeared at the entrance. "My lady, there is another visitor here. But he's here to see the King." The woman was obviously annoyed at the intrusions of the day, and made no attempts to hide it. "I tried to tell him that you were not to be disturbed but he's very insistent on seeing that he is here and unharmed."

Solas sighed, the look on his face said he knew who had followed him here. "I'm afraid he won't take no for an answer, Belavahn."

She quirked up an eyebrow and opened her mouth to ask a question of him, but changed her mind and shook her head before looking to Silvia again. "Might as well send him in, Silv."

Silvia made a sour face before disappearing down the stairs again. She heard the door below open, and hard footsteps make their way quickly up the stairs.

A man made his way into the room, dressed in a beautiful set of elvhen armor and a dour look on his face. His mouth curved into a frown before he bent in an elegant bow to the King. 

"Your majesty." the elf spoke in an almost sarcastic tone as he rose from his bow.

"I've asked you not to call me that." Solas looked at the elf coldly, obviously displeased to have been found here. "I'm surprised you found me so quickly, Abelas."

Belavahn took another look at the man in front of them, who had yet to even acknowledge her existence even though he had intruded into _her_ chamber. The name was familiar, and she knew it belonged to one of her mother's stories but couldn't recall which.

"Abelas?" She spoke out loud without thinking, and the man's eyes found hers. "I've heard your name before."

"Child of the Inquisitor", Abelas nodded to her before his attention returned to Solas, "and I have been following you since your departure from the city Fen'Harel. I would not be well suited for my job had I not."

Solas started speaking quickly to the man in Elvhen, so fast and so fluently that Belavahn could barely make out any of it. So she sat, staring at the men while they had their conversation that she was nowhere near fluent enough to be a part of. After the rise of Elvhenan, the language of the people had slowly been restored by both magic and those of the Elders willing to teach.

Belavahn had stubbornly resisted that part of her heritage when she was younger, only wanting to learn what little Dalish her mother had to teach. She regretted it now though, being forced to sit and listen to the two men practically yelling at each other in her room. 

_Maybe I really should take the time to learn it_. She thought to herself, before interrupting the elves.

"Excuse me," She raised her voice so she could be heard over the arguing, "Either speak in common or speak somewhere else, please. These are my rooms, you both sound like children, and I say that even as I don't understand what you are saying."

The two men looked at each other, but luckily didn't return to their bickering. Instead Abelas focused on her instead, "how does one with your lineage, child of Fen'Harel and the Inquisitor, not speak your own language?"

She raised an eye at him, "How did you know that?"

"Your eyes, they are his. Also it is what we are standing here arguing about, sounding like children." 

Belavahn's cheeks reddened at his words but she refused to be flustered, "if you must speak of me, do it in common or don't do it at all. I do not have time for this."

He nodded, "As you wish."

"if you'll both excuse me, I have things to attend to. Fen'Harel, I've had rooms prepared for you already. Will your... friend be staying as well?"

Abelas interrupted before Solas could answer, "His _Guardian_ , will be staying, yes. But I will not require a room."

"Well then, feel free to explore Skyhold or do whatever it is you do. I have to spend the next several hours smiling and nodding as insufferable nobles talk of my dying mother."

"Can we speak again later, Belavahn?" Solas asked, the look on his face like he expected to be denied.

"My brother and I will be visiting my mother after dinner, you are welcome to meet us there. If you wish."

He was obviously not expecting that, as he smiled at Belavahn.

_Don't get too excited, you haven't met Stanton._ Belavahn thought to herself. _This should be fun._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


End file.
